Grasping at Thin Air
by heyytheremickey
Summary: Upon waking in an unfamiliar world, Rayxa must begin her new life as a Nobody with a spotty memory and an impenetrable suspicion toward the other Nobodies around her. However, despite her resolve to escape, a familiar red-headed assassin is thrust into her life, breaking through her façade and causing her to rethink her strategy. But when the time comes, which path will she choose?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I do not own Kingdom Hearts, the story line, the characters, the Disney/Square Enix characters, or anything of that like. All I claim to own is my character, Rayxa.**

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 _Gra_ _sping at Thin Air_

 _Prologue: In Memoriam_

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The Castle That Never Was, as per usual, was filled with a foreboding, unsettling silence. It was the type of solitude that sent shivers up my spine, and created cause to ponder every piece of my quiet existence. Or, as I had learned many months ago, my _nonexistence_. However, existence or nonexistence aside, there was something more ominous than usual about the stillness surrounding the Castle and its stark white halls. Perhaps, it was the realization that the Organization, once fifteen strong, had nearly been sliced in half to a mere eight by some means or another. Or, perhaps, it was something less morbid and more sinister, as if none of the lost members were a concern and were instead mere pawns in some much greater and more significant war. A war requiring an army, but whose soldiers were easily replaced.

With mild indignation, I strut through the halls and broke the silence. _Click, clack_ , my heels echoed down the hall. While I may not have felt strongly for many of the lost Organization members - hell, I hardly had the opportunity to get to know them - the lack of compassion by the remaining members was not only bothersome, but infuriating. As Nobodies, we may supposedly lack 'real' emotions, but that did not mean those feelings were forgotten. At least, every emotion I have felt since arriving here felt just as real as I could ever imagine emotions feeling. So why then, was I one of the few to mourn the departed? Why, deep in my chest, was there an overwhelming tightness at the mere thought of death, their images scattered away in the wind as if they were never there at all?

Memories of Castle Oblivion filled my mind and for a moment, I paused and stared at my feet. Never have I been able to fathom why, only a few short days after my appearance in the Castle That Never Was, I had been order to accompany that group of individuals. It clearly was not a part of the original plan, by no means, as they could not have predicted my appearance. Maybe they had determined my lack of worth and sought to give me some sort of purpose as a Nobody. That, or even then, Saix had seen something in me few others have – my careful attendance, purposeful choice of words, and underhanded glint in my eyes betraying my true intentions – and sought to get rid of me before any trouble could be made against the Organization's purpose or, more probably, his own.

Laughter flew from my lips and I shook my head. Yeah, _right_ , as if I posed a real threat to whatever plan was being concocted in the shadows. What could I do, Cure them all to death? Waste all their resources making Hi Potions and Ethers? It was more likely I would run, or at least cast a continual loop of Barriers to protect myself. But, I had to hand it to him, he was perceptive.

And it wasn't only that I lacked physical power to overpower even the weakest or laziest of the Organization members. At this thought, I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the warmth of my few memories to show themselves. As if on cue, I was transported far from the Castle That Never Was and its stark walls and bleak outdoors. Instead, I could almost taste the freshness of the air and the fragrance of flowers in the breeze. Behind my head, flowers tickled my neck and cheeks and the warmth of the sun was homely in the most nostalgic way. But what I really held on to, really clung to, was the hand holding mine. It was hot and sweaty in my grasp, but I didn't care. The memory was so diametrically different from my current outlook - trusting and tender rather than calculating and suspicious - that I held onto this moment, one presumably from the past. However, as it would be, the tight, strong grasp slacked and was quietly lost as if out of thin air, taking with it the flowers and the sun, and the sweet breeze.

Reopening my eyes, I took a shaky breath in and released the grip I had on the fabric of my black coat. It was my most precious memory, and one of few I had regained in the time I'd been there. At one point, I remember Vexen's curiosity over this, despite not being the only cloudy-memoried person there. I'd wondered why, but I'm afraid I would never get my answer now.

As I began to step forward again, thoughts of the other Organization members ran through my head. There were the many who had been lost, some of whom I'd had the displeasure of viewing firsthand. Marluxia, with ambitions hidden by flowers and scythe, the Graceful Assassin. Larxene, armed with knives, lightning, and a temper, the Savage Nymph. Despite having felt intimidated by both of them, watching their final moments had developed in me a fear of my own demise and greater determination to reach my goal. And then, there were others who had not returned from Castle Oblivion: Zexion, wielder of shadows and illusions, the Cloaked Schemer; Lexaeus, commander of the earth with quiet strength, the Taciturn Stalwart; and, finally, the aforementioned Vexen, the brilliant scientist with domain over ice, the Chilly Academic. I did not know them long, but a pang in my chest had me feeling that despite their shortcoming, their time had been cut too soon.

Most recently, we lost two others, the youngest and most unassuming of the Organization: Roxas and Xion. Both wielded massive keys, weapons that were supposedly necessary to unlock hearts and defeat Heartless most productively. Their loss, although not visibly scarring as Larxene and Marluxia's, caused me much greater pain, between the uncertainty in their disappearances and their youth. Despite not knowing either of them well, I felt drawn to them, especially after the events of Castle Oblivion and encountering that boy.

That boy. I stared up at the ceiling, pondering the brunette I had met in Castle Oblivion. He, too, wielded a massive keyblade. "Curious…" I hummed, pulling my hood down further over my face as I passed the Grey Room, as if to further conceal my presence from whoever may be in there. However, only silence responded, and, with a curious peek into the room, I was greeted with a room empty of presence. With another hum, I continued on my way through the Castle without a second thought.

Despite feeling much more empty and quiet, there were many other members still in the Organization. There was Luxord, controller of time and wagerer of games, the Gambler of Fate; Demyx, the laidback sitar-playing water wielder, the Melodious Nocturne; Xigbar, traverser between realms and master at recon, the Freeshooter; Xaldin, the warrior and tactician harnessing the wind, the Whirlwind Lancer; Saix, the adjutant driven by the moon to seek hearts, the Luna Diviner. There was also Xemnas, the enigmatic master over nothingness and self-proclaimed Superior of the In-Between.

But then, there was Axel. The assassin with motives of his own, the Flurry of Dancing Flames. And, not to mention, the single wrench in my plans. Unconsciously, I began to stomp with greater haste through the empty halls, as if my body was trying to make an excuse for the sudden quicken of my heart that I may or may not still possess. Like Saix, it was as if he could see right through me, although what he saw was very different than what his friend could unravel. He saw _me_. And the glass façade was cracking, piece by piece, revealing who I truly was but had long since forgotten. More than a wrench, that man was my one anchor to the past. And more than an anchor, he was–

I shook my head, embarrassed by the thought, and continued on.

And then there was I. Briefly, I stopped my pacing to stare out one of the numerous windows lining the otherwise vacant halls. The black world outside was such a stark difference from the white walls within the Castle. And these, both, an even greater difference from the few other worlds I had seen, and, even more so, from the colorful worlds of that boys memories. Jaw tightening, I stared through the glass, my pallid reflection grimacing back.

I am Rayxa: the medic with arcane resolve, the Dubious Practitioner.

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 **Thank you for reading!** **For those already following/favorited this story, this prologue should look** _ **mostly**_ **familiar. I added in a couple of other scenes because, though this story was written way back at the end of 2016, I have been toying with the idea and many others for some time. So, I apologize for writing a prologue that went untouched for over two years now. But! By the time THIS is posted, I should already have written a couple chapters to motivate myself (so me of the future, get working!).**

 **Anyway, thanks again and please follow/favorite/review if you like this so far, or have any pieces of constructive criticism to offer! Happy Holidays, everyone!**


	2. Chapter 1

_Grasping at Thin Air_

 _Chapter 1: Suspicion_

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"Is...Is she dead?"

Before I'd even heard the words spoken, I think I'd thought the same thing. _Am I dead_? The thought was one of few that swam around my blank mind.

Although I was in an almost stuporous haze, I was certain of a few overwhelming details. First, my body felt light as a feather, as if I was floating lifelessly, uninfluenced by gravity. Second, I was swimming in an unending darkness, so deep I could hardly make out the details in my own hands much less anything else. And third, I was suffocating. At the realization of the third, I became acutely aware of the tightness of my lungs and their desperation for air; however, despite what I felt were valiant efforts, I could not pull a deep breath. I writhed, gripping at my throat, pulling at the fabric of my clothes, anything to loosen whatever hold was preventing me from breathing. But no respite came. Fear washed over me and for an instant I wondered again if, truly, I was dead or at least in the process of dying.

As if to answer my question, warmth spreading around me and cradled my oxygen-deprived body. Though I continued struggling for a breath, I suddenly felt much calmer. My writhing ceased. Behind me, the endless darkness had evaporated into a field of white and yellow flowers. Their buds tickled the back of my neck, my ears, and my cheeks. A warm breeze blew against my bare calves and I felt the sun on my skin, so hot it felt like it might burn through it. Two plastic-y things were thrust into my nostrils and I absentmindedly moved my hand to feel what they were until I realized my hand was already preoccupied. Another hand, slightly larger and much hotter than my own, grasped mine with such tightness that the heaviness in my chest I'd been forgetting about instantly returned. I felt like I was going to be sick. But more than anything, I felt like I was going to cry.

And then, I realized, I still hadn't taken a breath.

When my eyes flew open and I took an ugly, gasping breath of air, relief immediately washed over me. Despite what the voice had questioned, I was not dead. I couldn't be; I had just breathed. This, I decided then, was as good a start as any. However, then my eyes trailed from the orangey red sky to peer at the owner of said voice. A boy much younger than myself with spiky dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes was bent over me, studying my face. Furrowing my brow, I averted my gaze from him and pulled at the hem of the loose, light blue tunic dress I wore. In my periphery, I watched the boy cock his head to the side, an unreadable expression on his face.

"You're not dead?" he asked, almost to himself, as if he too was confused about this new development. In slow motions, I picked myself up to a seated position and pulled my legs to my chest. I watched the boy suspiciously, taking in his black cloak and the massive key he held to his side. Almost instantly, it vanished into thin air.

 _Curious_ , I thought, my mind racing. _Suspicious figure number one. Little boy in a very sketchy black coat, walking around with a big, vanishing key. Very odd. But…_ I paused in my thought process as the boy continued to watch me, his stare blank and unfeeling. Uncomfortable. _Also potentially socially inept. And, he doesn't look very physically threatening. Cannot determine if potential ally or enemy. Will continue to monitor._

I cleared my throat and attempted to turn my lips up. I wasn't sure why, but it felt like the correct response to comfort the equally confused and uncomfortable boy. Despite my own perplexity toward the situation, it was obvious from his appearance that I was older than the boy and I felt some innate sense of motherlike instinct to quell his concern.

"Hello, young boy," a surprisingly smooth, but calculating feminine voice erupted from my throat. I wondered momentarily if I sounded insincere, until I realized I wasn't entirely sure what sincerity sounded like.

A thought flickered through my mind: I wasn't entirely sure of _anything_ right now. Why was I so calm?

Before I could dwell, the pubescent male's voice interrupted my thoughts. "I'm not a kid. I'm like, 15 years old." He grimaced and I couldn't help but muse that he looked like a sad blonde puppy.

"Much younger than I, I'm afraid," I presumed, that fake smile still spread on my lips. I peered around, taking in the scene around us. Orange sunset. Giant clock tower. Residences as far as the eye could see. Brick paths below my fingertips. I stared down at my ghostly pale hands and continued, "In any case, it goes without saying that I am a little lost. Do you think you could help me for a moment?"

I looked up to see the boy nodding, a small smile on his own lips. It did not, however, reach his eyes. Continuing, I asked, "Where am I? I am not familiar with this place."

"Oh," the blonde exclaimed, looking around the large open space below the clock tower. "This is Twilight Town. But, where are you trying to go if it's not here?"

Under the curious eye of the boy, I suddenly had another realization. And another and another and another. Where was I trying to go? I wasn't sure in the slightest. So, then, where had I come from? Again, I was not sure. What was I doing laying just before the clocktower of Twilight Town? What was I doing before waking up here? Why can't I remember what it feels like to be sincere? To smile a real smile? For heaven's sake, what was my name? I racked my brain for any helpful detail, any memory that could assist in solving this convoluted mystery. However, though I tried, nothing helpful seemed to emerge from it, nothing except for the delicate white and yellow flowers, sweet-smelling breeze, and strong, warm hand squeezing mine. And though my chest felt tight again, I was not sure why and was not sure that right now I cared.

What was going on?

Before I could think more on it though, a swirling pit of darkness suddenly emerged next to the blonde boy. My brow furrowed and my eyes darted between the boy and the new figure emerging from the dark emptiness, a man with salt and pepper hair, a black eye patch over his right eye, and a massive scar across his cheek. He, too, wore a black coat. I rocked in my spot but knew almost instantly it would be pointless to jump up and run or try to fight back. Eyes landing on the blonde, I thought, _Enemy. For all your perceived social inequities and few helpful gestures, I have come to believe you are certainly not, by any means, my ally. Not if you associate with this frightening man and his swirling pit of… what even is that?_ Shaking my head at the thought, my eyes returned to the new figure and studied his own grin. It was fake, but different from my sickly sweet one and the blonde's hopeless, spacey one; his grin almost looked _cruel_ if that were possible. I braced myself for whatever happened next unconsciously.

"Well, well, well," the new man mused, patting the blonde on the shoulder. "Look what you managed to find on your mission, Roxas! Nice going, the Superior is going to love this."

The boy - Roxas? - peered up at the older man blankly, a look I mirrored. Then, he asked, "I found a… woman?" I swallowed hard. I might not remember much of anything, but if there was anything that felt really wrong, it was this moment. The older man laughed and squeezed the younger boy's shoulder before releasing it.

"A woman, yes," he explained, turning to face me now. My jaw clenched; his grin seemed to grow. "But not just any woman. She's a Nobody just like us." I rocked myself again and picked at the skin below my nails. Part of me wasn't sure if he was taking a jab at me or not, but I wasn't in a place to care right now. As he took a step toward me, I instinctively stiffened and narrowed my eyes at him. Again, that humorless laugh. He continued, "Alright little girl, it's time to go to your new home now. Don't make this more difficult than it has to be."

Without warning, two gun-like weapons materialized into his hands. Pressing my lips into a line, I slowly stood and brushed off my tunic and held my hands up innocently. With a sweet smile, I spoke calmly in the warmest voice I could muster, "Now, now. We don't have to do anything rash. I'm not even sure what you're talking about at all. I assure you, whatever it is you are doing, having me will be of no benefit to you. Honestly, it's probably more in your interest to just leave me-"

My vision went dark. Then, pain shot up from my abdomen and I fell forward onto something hard. Not brick, but maybe... a shoulder? Under my cheek, I felt the smooth leather of what must be one of the black cloaks the two figures had been wearing. I squirmed at the unwelcome grasp one of them had on me and internally cursed myself as my consciousness began to fade, hearing only a little more of their conversation.

"Was that really necessary?" the nasally voice of the young boy asked.

Then, another abrupt laugh, before I fell into darkness, both literally and physically.

I couldn't be sure how long I was unconscious for. The darkness before and after the encounter with the blonde Roxas and the older man felt much the same, and thus, it was as if I had never even awakened at all. It was easy to imagine the warm Twilight Town as just another spotty memory slowly returning to me. However, this was aside from a new pain roaring in my abdomen reminding me of the realness of the event.

Eventually, unable to take the dull continuous pain, my eyes flickered open again and I was greeted to white. Stark white. So much white that I had to squint against it for a few minutes before it no longer hurt my eyes to take in. And when this finally happened, I noticed I was in a room with impossibly tall chairs, accompanied only by one other person in a black coat. It was neither Roxas or the older man from before, but as he turned around to face me it was as if an alarm went off in my brain.

 _This_ , I decided, although kept up my calm poker face. _Now, this is a not-good person._ My eyes flickered over him, taking in his hair - the whiteness similar to my own hairs platinum color - and disturbingly yellow eyes in contrast to the warmness of his skin tone. His arms were crossed over his chest and his express held no discernable emotion as he stared down at me. Self-conscious, I pulled myself up to stand and ran my fingers through my own white hair and over the wrinkles in my tunic. Peering up at him, I had one last thought: _But he isn't like the other two. No, this man's presence commands attention and respect. And… Those eyes…_ I met his eyes and was suddenly reminded of the verbiage about not staring a feral dog in the eye, for risk of challenging it. Immediately, I looked down at my feet. They were bare.

"Good tidings," a low, rumbly voice greeted. He spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable. My muscles tensed as he lifted one of his arms up. I dared not look, instead finding new interest in my feet. He continued, not expecting a response: "You remember nothing. You feel nothing. Nothing is real." He paused, giving his words a chance to sink in. In truth, little of his statement made much sense to me. However, I was not about to call this man out, not here or right now. Something about all of this felt wrong, but I couldn't deny the truth to his statements. I remembered so little, and I remembered even less about how to feel. This was all true. The fact that this man was so aware of this made me all the more suspicious of him.

"But," he continued. "I can give you purpose." My eyes flickered up in time to read what I guessed was a name: Rayxa. Was that my name? It didn't sound familiar. I wondered if he'd given me a new one, similar to how an owner names his pet. I shifted my weight and looked again up at the white haired man, who grinned down at me. That same grin as the other man. I shivered as he said, "Rayxa. From this day forward, you will be a tool for Organization XIII. Is this understood?"

 _And if I refuse_? The words screamed in my mind. A tool? For Organization XIII? What was he even talking about? And, truly, how do they even plan on _using_ me? I didn't need to know who these people were or what they did to know something was not right here. I was suspicious. And though I had no other memories to go by, I would have chosen any other path but this one, had I not been so unlucky. However, despite myself, I was pretty certain that this was not something I could just refuse like it was an unsatisfactory job offer. Which in retrospect, it certainly was an unsatisfactory job offer, but, as expected, not one so easily refused, and not one so easily left. Not if I wanted to continue to live with some amount of freedom, or live at all. I focused again on my feet and nodded. Above me, I could almost feel the white haired man's grin grow.

"Good," he spoke. Then, to his left, a spiralling pool of darkness erupted similar to the one from earlier. Clenching my jaw, I stared at the foreboding black hole until a hunk of fabric was tossed into my arms. I looked down at it and pressed my lips together, turning it over in my arms.

It was one of those black cloaks. I wanted to swear.

"A protection from the dwellings within the corridors," the man explained and I nodded absentmindedly. I didn't really understand what he meant - did he mean to call those black hole things 'corridors'? - but even I was smart enough then to comply with his desires. If he really was who I thought he was, it would do me no favors to show blatant disrespect. At least, not right now.

Slowly, I slipped into the black cloak, zipped it up to my chin, and pulled the hood over my face so I was all but swallowed up in it. Under the darkness of the hood, I felt more able to stare straight into the white haired man's bright yellow eyes. I shivered, innately distrusting of them. Who were these people? And what could they possibly need me for? As far as I can see, I'm going to be more trouble keeping here than it's even worth.

Then, the man disappeared into a flurry of darkness, similar to the erratic black portal to my left. In his absence, I noticed I had no way of leaving the room, except for by that corridor he referenced. I stared at it, watching the darkness swirl around without much pattern or sequence. The erratic, wild unknown.

Releasing the breath I hadn't know I was holding, I stepped cautiously into the darkness, letting it envelope me for the third time that day.

Before I knew it, I had emerged from the darkness and was now in a dimly lit room with a large window spanning the entire back wall. Outside the window, a moon in the shape of a heart shone bright and I couldn't help but stare at it. It was the first hopeful thing I'd seen since waking up. Something within me stirred. However, this lasted barely a few seconds, before I became acutely aware that I was, regrettably, still not alone.

"Now, what do we have here?" A shrill female voice questioned. I turned and faced what looked to be a lounge area in the corner of the room. It was easy to place the owner of the voice, as only one female resided among five similarly dressed individuals. Her hair was bright blonde and her eyes an even brighter green and, though she smiled at me, I could almost taste the vitriol in her words. "Is this the thing Xigbar brought back with him from Twilight Town? So are we just accepting everyone now?"

As she cackled, I swallowed back words that threatened to leave my lips. After all of the chaos and confusion that has transpired today, after all I had done to maintain a sense of calmness and placation, saying too much now over a few petty words would only lend aggression and suspicion toward myself. And that, I could not afford to do, not so early in the game with still so much to lose. _These suspicious characters may think they have me in checkmate right now_ , I thought, approaching the group blankly. _They may think I'm easy to manipulate because they found me alone and without my memories. But they have another thing coming._ I had a plan to make, a facade to keep up.

Beneath the shade cast from my hood, I let a sickenly sweet smile spread over my lips. For I knew, alone and memory-less as I was, I would never let myself side with the Black Coats. With even the little I had seen thus far, I had decided they were all not to be trusted. But, really, what amnesiac would trust this situation? Something just felt _off_ and, with little else to go by, I would take this feeling with me to the end.

In the back of my mind, I let the warmth of the memory of flowers and bright skies and hand-holding envelope me. The tightness in my chest returned, if only for a moment, and I came to associate that feeling with hope. I would never let myself fall to whatever darkness these people have.

I gave a small wave to the five on the couch, the smile still plastered to my face. "Pleasure to make your acquaintances. My name is Rayxa. I hope we can be good friends in time, and provide some assistance to you all however I can."

No, I would find the brightest of light and forge my own path, one straight out of this place and back to wherever it is I belong.

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 **I just would like to thank SquidbaggerOfWoomyAndNgyesness for sending me a message about this story. It meant so much to hear from someone about this! I know I didn't have much to go by last chapter, but it meant the world that you enjoyed it so far.**

 **And thank you to everyone who favorited/followed the story also! Again, the support means so much. I had been toying with the idea for so long (I mean, since the end of 2016 clearly lol) but I'm grateful I finally have some time to put it to paper.**

 **Thanks again and hope you continue to enjoy! Please feel free to review/favorite/follow if you have the time; it means a lot!**


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